The Twelfth of Never
by Darcy
Summary: Severus finds himself falling hard for a girl that's all wrong for him. (S&L) (WIP)
1. The Horrible Realization

The Twelfth of Never

(Formerly Titled: "Snape's Worst Memory Revisited")

A/N – This story was inspired by the Chapter 28 of "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix," and takes place during and shortly after Snape's fifth year at Hogwarts. It may be spoilerish for those of you who haven't read "OotP" yet, so be warned. Note that this originally started off as a one-shot ficlet, but has snowballed into something bigger. Accordingly, I've gone back and made some changes, given it a new title, tweaked, polished, etc. This isn't my usual fandom, so let me know when I've messed up on anything. Feedback, both positive and constructive, is always appreciated.

Disclaimer: All characters depicted in this story are the property of J. K. Rowling. No infringement of any kind intended. I don't make any money from writing this…etc. etc. etc. In addition, I've borrowed some lines from Chapter 28 of "OotP." These I've indicated with a . Hopefully, that will keep me out of trouble.

Part I

Chapter 1 – The Horrible Realization

With a gaze so intense, it should've withered the parchment lying on the table in front of him, Severus hunched forward, beaked nose almost touching theTransfiguration notes he'd been staring at for the past hour. Staring that is, but seeing? Not necessarily. Despite the fact that the Slytherin common room was positively teeming with fifth years desperately cramming for the next day's O.W.L. exams, the young wizard was oblivious to it all. For Severus right now, studying for a bunch of tests that would pretty much determine his whole career seemed pretty…well, trivial.

Fact was his mind was on other, _darker_ things. Like pain…suffering… and revenge…

Mostly though, he thought about _her_.

Earlier that day, certain events had taken place that had blackened his mood even further than its usual stygian hue. His half-glazed eyes narrowed, becoming glittering slits. Now, Potter and Black, he could understand. Their actions, though despicable, had been thoroughly predictable. He expected behavior like that from those two, and fully intended to pay them back—when the time was right. But _Lily_…

_Who did she think…? Who was she to…?_

Who indeed! He certainly hadn't needed that holier-than-thou princess to come rushing down from her lofty moral plateau to 'save' him. Making him look foolish and weak in process. Like he needed her help! Of course, she'd changed her tune soon enough, now hadn't she?

Calling him 'Snivellus!'

His long, slender fingers clenched the parchment, tearing its edges. She was no better than the lot of them.

Filthy little Mudblo— 

He sat up suddenly, and the frown that had been permanently engrained on his face since early childhood deepened.

_Hmmm. _

He'd called her a Mudblood, hadn't he? She was one, of course, but… _Perhaps it may have been a little ungrateful_, a tiny voice—his conscience—pointed out hesitantly. She seemed to have had good intentions, after all. And she'd stepped forward—for him. Put herself on the line.

No! But… I didn't 'need' help. Least of all from a… 

Of course, while the others had laughed, or simply stood by and watched his tormentors disarm, disable, and completely humiliate him, she'd stood up to them. Green eyes all ablaze, riled up in righteous defense of the un-defendable. Him.

She'd come out smoking—and yelling. "Leave him ALONE!"

And, surprisingly, the bullies had complied—at least temporarily. Of course Potter had had an ulterior motive. Lily. Obviously the stupid fool had a crush on her. And so like a besotted idiot, he'd asked her out.

"Go out with me, and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again," the idiot Potter had said.

Of course she'd turned him down. Clearly, she hated the guy. Smart girl.

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid," she'd said. Nice.

Her words had brought a smile to his face, but it had been fleeting. After a misfired counterattack, Severus had soon found himself hanging upside down in the air, his less-than-clean underpants on display.

The crowd had roared with laughter and many had cheered. Severus was humiliated once again.

"Let him down!" Lily had then ordered, and he'd unceremoniously dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Immediately, he'd scrambled to his feet, wand up, ready to fight, but Black had been ready.

"Locomotor mortis!" Black had yelled, rendering Severus helpless, stiff as a day-old corpse. 

Severus' eyes narrowed with a new surge of anger at the thought of his classmates' cruelty. Potter and Black would suffer dearly for their little prank, that he was sure of, but the Mudblood…Lily…

He looked down at his Transfiguration notes, which were now badly crumpled in his hands.

She's going to pay… 

But then he recalled her shouting in his defense, her wand pointing at Potter.

No! She 'will' suffer… 

But his conscious spoke up again, pointing out the look on her face when he'd repaid her heroics with an insult.

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!" he'd said.

She'd blinked once, and then given him a frosty look. The fire he'd seen in her eyes earlier had turned cold.

But she had no right… 

To help a classmate in need? A friendless rodent who few people even knew existed? Wasn't that what he was?

But still… 

Already starting to cool down, Severus found himself suddenly thinking of Lily's green, almond-shaped eyes, and how, when turned to James Potter, they'd filled with loathing. Those eyes had shot down the overconfident Quidditch player more effectively than any bludger ever could.

_Yes._ He raised an eyebrow as he reflected on this. _Such…'fine' eyes_.

He smiled despite himself, his hawk-like face looking unintentionally sinister.

Well, he had to admit; she _was_ bright—in her assessment of Potter anyway. He pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger. And, of course, not _unattractive_. If she weren't a Mudblood, he may have even considered…

Ah, but that was an obstacle he'd never get around—even if he wished to. His father would never let him…would never approve.

But.

He stood up suddenly, hands shaking slightly as he stowed his now ragged notes in his satchel.

He owed her an apology. Mudblood or no, she'd stuck up for him. The least he could do was…

Well, he'd do the least, which he realized, was also the most…that he could do.

He found her in the library studying, and quietly took a seat at the table behind hers. Her back was turned to him. Unnoticed, he spent close to an hour just staring at her hair. He supposed it was closest to auburn, but not quite. It fell to her shoulders in rippling waves, and glimmered in the light each time she tilted her head.

Fifteen-year-old Severus suddenly felt strange. The truth of the matter was he'd never really noticed any girl before—and certainly no girl had ever noticed _him._ He much preferred staying on the sidelines, biding his time, studying the dark arts. How was it that he'd spent so much time watching these people from afar, but had never really seen any of them?

Yes, truth be told, he'd never really seen _her_, had he? But then today, she'd stood up, and he'd taken notice. It had been sort of a delayed reaction, but now…

Much to his horror, he realized that he couldn't stop looking at her.

_This is wrong! You can't…._

She represented everything he loathed. Muggle-born, yet so smug and self-righteous. She walked the halls like she owned the place. So confident…so sure of herself… He could squash her in a heartbeat if he wanted to.

And hadn't he always wanted to?

Well, yes, but that was before… 

Before she'd put James Potter in his place.

Aha! Is that was this is all about? Getting back at Potter… 

Severus frowned suddenly. Yes, that was part of it—to be sure. But he couldn't say that it was the only reason. No, he couldn't say that at all.

Well, what then? 

He was…he was here to…apologize. That was it.

Apologize? 

Yes, because there was still a tiny part of him, deep down, that was decent. The part of him his father had not yet touched with his cruelty and neglect. He thought it had been lost, but perhaps it had only been hidden.

Lily Evans twirled a section of her rich coppery hair around her index finger and put down her pencil. She sighed. Severus took it as a signal and sat up straight. He was here to apologize. Nervously, he stood.

But…but…seriously, does one apologize to a spade for calling one such? 

He paused. _No…but…_

She tilted her head a quarter to the right, and Severus' attention was caught by the way the light seemed to play upon the silken strands like a flame. As if in a trance, he pushed back his chair, and stepped around the table. He would do it. He _would_ apologize.

He took several tentative steps until he stood directly behind her. Then he reached out to tap her shoulder, his hand brushing her hair. Closing his eyes, he savored the soft feel of her tresses combing through his fingers.

Lily whirled around immediately, a look of surprise on her face. When she saw him standing behind her, her expression became inscrutable. What was she thinking? Severus could not hope to guess. One thing was for certain, though, and gave Severus pause—there was no warmth in her eyes. He stepped back, mouth half hanging open.

"Er…" What was he going to say? Suddenly, his mind went blank. And he felt foolish. To think…

Lily frowned. "Snape?" Her voice sounded cool, and not the least bit welcoming.

He tried to smile, but his face wouldn't comply. He took another step back. At least his legs were still working. He took several more steps backward. Yes, they were working rather well. Then he turned and, taking long strides, headed for the library door, only once glancing over his shoulder to see Lily Evans staring back at him, looking thoroughly puzzled.


	2. Fighting the Unthinkable

Chapter 2 – Fighting the Unthinkable

Although Transfiguration had never been his best subject, he'd always considered himself respectable at it.  But that morning, Severus found it almost impossible to concentrate.  Desperately, he read and reread the fifth question and then scratched his head.  How do you turn a rat into stone?  How basic.  He knew this one!  But somehow, the answer stayed just out of his reach.

Frustrated, he glanced across the room to where _she_ sat—the bane of his existence, and the one who'd seemingly frozen his brain and lowered his I.Q. by at least fifty points.  Of course, she was completely oblivious to this fact, but he hated her all the same.

Returning his attention to his exam, he angrily scribbled down an answer, no longer caring if it were right or wrong.  In a couple of hours, this agony would be over with.  He'd go back to the Slytherin dormitory and escape.  If she were out of sight…

But would she be out of mind?  Well, he certainly hoped so.  If not, it would most probably be more than his little black heart could bear.

* * *

"Time!" announced the proctor, and Severus breathed a sigh of relief.  Somehow, he'd managed to pull himself together around the exam's mid-point, and had come up with what he thought were plausible answers to all of the questions.  Although he was certain that a number of his answers were dead wrong, he was also sure that the many others were correct. Hopefully, it would be enough for a decent mark.

Hastily, he grabbed his O.W.L. paper and shoved it into his satchel, not feeling the slightest urge to pore over it and agonize over each of his answers, as he had done with all of the previous exams.  His mind was not on the test, but on something, or rather _someone _else, and he was determined to put as much distance between him and that someone as quickly as he could.

Without so much as a glance in her direction, he swept out of the Great Hall and into the corridor.  He was the first out, and was soon followed by dozens of chattering fifth years.

"How'd you do?" he heard one student ask.

"Aced it of course," was the cocky reply.  Severus craned his head around and wasn't surprised to see James Potter, looking smug, walking casually with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.  Severus quickened his step and ducked into an empty classroom, watching the four friends with a wary eye.  He didn't want a repeat of the previous day's lynching.  He wouldn't be made a mockery of two days running.

After Potter and his cohorts were safely out of view, Severus emerged cautiously from the classroom, and started for the Slytherin house.  He'd only taken five steps when he was halted by a voice from behind him.

"Snape," said the voice.  Cold.  Hard.  Not the least bit friendly.

He slowed, but didn't stop, perspiration suddenly prickling on his forehead.

"Sna--  Er, Severus," said the voice.  This time less harsh, but still not at all friendly.

Severus paused, then turned and saw her standing not ten feet behind him. She quickly cut the distance to five.  He opened his mouth to reply, but only managed a low breathy sound like one makes after being unexpectedly thumped on the back by a friendly troll.

In the meantime, she cut the distance to three feet, then stood before him, hand on one hip, head tilted to one side, her face a picture of skeptical curiosity.

"I was wondering," she began, and Severus stared fixedly at her, taking in her cool green eyes, overabundant freckles, and of course her hair, which appeared a bit unruly that day, reddish waves turning this way and that.

He finally found his voice.  "Yes?" he said, in his usual nasal tone, which always made him sound rather disdainful. 

Lily Evans bit her bottom lip, and studied him for a moment.  "I was wondering," she continued, "what…were you going to tell me…in the library yesterday?"

Severus stood a little straighter, and managed a thin-lipped smile.  "I was…"  _Going to apologize,_ he thought, _before, of course, I finally came to my senses._  "I—I was just going to…"  His mind whirred in action like a snitch trapped in a jelly jar as he tried to think up a good lie.

He'd just come up with one—that he'd merely wanted to tell her that he thought her exceptionally offensive, even for a Mudblood—when she sent him for a complete loop.

First she smiled, and Severus couldn't help but marvel at how her face completely changed when she did so.  The cold seemed to melt away, replaced with warmth that actually looked genuine.  "I think I know," she said softly, looking at him with an earnestness that instantly tugged at his heart, "You were going to tell me that you didn't mean what you said yesterday…about me…"

He opened his mouth to protest, but she continued.

"I'm afraid that I owe you an apology," she said firmly.  "I insulted you, and I'm sorry.  I stooped down to their level—Potter's and Black's.  I'd meant to—"

Severus looked at her, incredulous.  "You're…sorry?"

She nodded.  "It's just…you…caught me off guard when you called me a…what you called me."

His ordinarily pale face flushed, but he remained silent.  If he ever were to apologize, he knew there would be no better time than the present.  But, strangely, he found that he couldn't do it.  And it wasn't pride, or prejudice, or anger that kept him from speaking.  It was something entirely different.  It was fear.

Fear of the possibilities.

If he and Lily were to become—could he even think it—if they were to become friends, or maybe even something more…

No, hating her was much safer.

Severus collected himself, mouth set in a thin straight line.  "I don't need, nor want your apologies," her muttered quietly, not meeting her in the eyes.  "You owe me nothing."

And with that, he walked away, leaving Lily Evans for a second time in less than a day, looking thoroughly puzzled.


	3. The Long Ride Home

Chapter 3 – The Long Ride Home

On the last day of the school year, Severus was strangely conflicted.  

On the one hand, he was greatly relieved because he'd soon be on a train leaving Hogwarts.  On the _other_ hand, he was horribly alarmed because, well, he'd soon be on a train leaving Hogwarts.

Leaving Hogwarts meant leaving Lily Evans, and that was a good thing.  Good because he found himself spending much too much time thinking about her.  And that, of course, was bad.  Leaving Hogwarts meant no more chance meetings in the hallways, or stray glances during mealtime.  Out of sight, out of mind.  Out of sight…  

Was he out of his mind?

Leaving Hogwarts also meant returning to #13 Pemberly Street, his family home, for three whole months.  And that, he thought, was most definitely a bad thing. 

After skipping breakfast, Severus had spent his entire morning in his dormitory room mulling over his predicament.  Of course it was all futile.  He had no choice in the matter after all.  At precisely 11:00 a.m. he'd be boarding the Hogwarts Express on his way to…

Wait a minute.

He glanced at the clock on his bedside.  It looked like the man in the moon with its round face and greenish tinge.  At the moment, it appeared to be sleeping.  Severus noted that the large hand had been pointing to the twelve, and the short to the six since the time he'd arisen that morning.

"Wake up, clock!" Severus growled, and the clock opened its eyes, looking startled.

"Wh-what time is it?" the clock blurted.

"Precisely what I was going to ask you!" Severus snapped.

The clock's hands began spinning around and around, until the large hand was just shy of the twelve and the short almost dead on the eleven.

"It's ten fifty-sev—"

But before the clock could finish, Severus was already bolting down the stairs at full speed, desperate to catch the train that was to shuttle him away from one hopeless plight, only to deliver him to another.

* * *

Out of breath, lugging a large wire cage containing his tawny owl, Bartho, in one hand, and dragging his school satchel, heavy with books, in the other, Severus passed compartment after compartment, but all were filled.  As he had no real friends, no one had saved him a seat.  Near the back of the train, he opened a door and felt his heart lurch up his throat, stopping just short of his Adam's apple.  There in front of him, munching on Chocolate Frogs and chatting amiably with Cassandra Clark, another Gryffindor girl, sat Lily Evans.

Severus blanched, and then quickly tried to shut the door he'd just opened.  Before he could do so, however, Lily spoke up.

"Oh, hey," she said, sounding friendly.  He paused.  Perhaps she'd only been talking to Cassandra.  But then she said his name,  "Severus…" and her voice was still pleasant.  Curious, Severus slid the door back open a quarter, poking his head inside the cabin.

Lily smiled sweetly at him, and Severus felt his knees start to sag down to the floor.

"Evans," he said, trying to sound as cool as possible, his face, he hoped, was a mask of indifference.

"There's an open seat in here," Lily said, gesturing to the empty bench across from them.

Severus eyed her apprehensively, and then glanced at the seat.  "Er," he began, withdrawing from the cabin, "No thanks, I, er…"

But Lily was already on her feet, and pulling the door open.   She grabbed Bartho's cage, and placed it next to the window.  Studying the bird with interest, she commented, "Nice owl."

"Hey!"  Severus scowled, entering the cabin to retrieve Bartho.  He stepped toward his owl, but Lily cut in front of him, causing a brief collision.  Severus jumped back, alarmed.  He blinked hard trying to dispel pubescent thoughts that were suddenly entering his mind unbidden.  She'd felt soft against him, and her smell, like gardenias…

To his amazement, Lily was now freeing him of his satchel and stowing it in the rack above their heads.  "There," she said, obviously pleased with herself.  She sat back down on her side of the compartment and looked at Severus expectantly.

Brows drawn together in a frown of uncertainty, Severus glanced from Lily, to his owl, then to his satchel, and finally completely ignoring Cassandra, turned back to Lily again.

"Sit.  Sit," she said, and gestured again to the bench.

Feeling trapped, and miserable, Severus did as he was told, and lowered himself next to his owl.  Bartho hooted his approval. 

"What's his name?" Lily asked, smiling at Bartho.

"What?" Severus said distractedly.  He'd been concentrating on not looking at her, and was feigning interest in a water spot on the window.

"Your owl," Lily replied, getting up, and then kneeling in front of Bartho's cage. "What's his name?"

Still trying not to look directly at Lily, Severus glanced across the cabin and locked eyes with Cassandra.  That was a mistake.  The curly haired brunette was staring at him distastefully as if he reeked of dragon dung.  Severus turned away from her, only to be forced into eye contact with Lily.  She looked curiously amused.

"What's his name?" she said again.

"It's," Severus said, looking at his owl, who was now hooting softly and puffing out his chest in an attempt to appear more impressive.  _Shameless peacock!_  He turned his attention back to Lily, whose large green eyes were intently on him.  "It's Bartho," he replied finally.

"Bartho," Lily whispered, smiling.  Her face was now level with the owl's cage, and she was stroking him with her index finger through the wire.  Bartho pressed against his cage, eager for the attention.  

Severus watched them with growing anger.  _Traitor!_ he thought, glaring at the owl.  He was just about to declare his intention of leaving the compartment, when a second traitor struck unexpectedly.

His stomach, angry about the breakfast Severus had skipped that morning, rumbled loudly.

Lily leaned back on her heels and looked up at him.  "Oh," she said casually, "are you hungry?"

Mortified, Severus jerkily shook his head, but Lily ignored him.  She turned to her friend.   "Cassandra," she said, "have we got any more of those Chocolate Frogs left?"

Cassandra smirked as she popped the last one in her mouth.  "Sorry, no," she answered in between chews.

"Oh, that's too bad."  Lily frowned.  "The snack cart just came by here not five minutes ago."  She stood up and looked at her friend.  "Cass, if it's not too much trouble, would you mind tracking down something for poor Severus here to eat?" 

"What?" Cassandra asked, looking peeved.  

Unnerved at the thought of he and Lily being left alone, Severus waved his hand.  "No," he said quickly, "that's not nec—"

Lily shrugged and got out a few galleons from her satchel.  "Just see what they've got left," she said, handing the coins to Cassandra.  "Actually, I could stand for some Pumpkin Pasties myself.  Now, would you be a dear and run and get us something?"

Cassandra sat for several seconds, staring down at the money Lily had just given her.  Then, shaking her head, she got up and left the cabin with a "hmph" to her friend and a glare at Severus.

Lily sat down directly across from Severus and smiled.  "She's such a sweetheart," she commented offhandedly.  Then she glanced at him, looking uncertain.  There was an uncomfortable silence, and Severus watched as Lily Evans started fidgeting in her seat; moving her hands to her lap, then to her side, then back to her lap again.  His eyes narrowed as he noticed this.  Suddenly she seemed a different girl.  Was she nervous?  But certainly _she _had nothing to be nervous about.  Now, he on the other hand…

He was a wreck inside.  His nerves were sending shockwaves throughout his body, short-circuiting his brain, and making his heart hammer desperately in his chest.  No, he'd never felt more on-edge.

But strangely—and he realized this at last—none of it showed.  On the outside, he was the picture of calm.

As this realization sunk in, Severus smiled, and he felt suddenly grateful for what was arguably his greatest talent.  It was the one thing, besides potions of course, that he was really good at: hiding his feelings.   He was so skilled, in fact, that people often assumed (erroneously) that he didn't have any.  And although he did have feelings—strong ones—none of them were apparent that day on the train.  As on any other given day, Severus Snape appeared calm and collected, a boy not carrying even the smallest of matchsticks for the girl sitting across from him.  

And whether it was a matchstick, or a torch, that he carried for Lily Evans, Severus was determined not to divulge even a shred of his feelings to the girl in question.

So, there they sat.  He, impassively studying that water spot on the window that he'd previously noticed, and she, looking helpless, alternating her glance from the window where his attention lay, to his face, and back.

After several minutes of this thick silence, Lily finally spoke.

"So," she said with forced cheerfulness, "what are your plans for the summer?"

Severus thought for a moment.  Of course, he didn't have any plans…  Well, other than steering clear of his father who tended to yell at him at every given opportunity.  Like the previous summer, he'd probably just hide out in his room and shoot flies off the ceiling with his wand, or talk quietly with his mother's portrait that hung in the foyer.  Although, he was still very angry with her for dying two days shy of his tenth birthday, he missed her dreadfully.

Lips tightly pursed, Severus briefly looked up at Lily, then glanced out the window, barely taking in the landscape blurring by like running watercolors.  He didn't answer.

The silence lasted for several minutes. Then Lily let out a long patient breath, and began talking about _her_ plans for the summer.  She chattered on about how she would be helping out with her family's business, some sort of Muggle store, which sold, what she referred to as 'appliances.'  Despite himself, Severus couldn't help but listen with genuine interest as she talked about her life outside of Hogwarts.

After nearly five minutes of her good-natured yammering, Lily looked at Severus and said, "Well, enough about _me_.  You never told me about _your_ plans."

Severus grimaced.  He tried to think up a good lie, but for some unknown reason, ended up telling her the truth.  "I don't have any plans," he said finally in a quiet voice.

"Oh," Lily said, looking surprised. "But don't you have any sort of family trip planned?  Surely you—"

"No," he cut her off abruptly.  "No trip, and no family."

"But I thought that—"

"Oh, I have a father all right," Severus clarified, "but he doesn't really count."

"Why not?"

Because he's a monster. 

Severus shrugged.  "He just doesn't."  He glanced at Lily, who looked poised to speak, but after briefly meeting his eyes, she seemed to change her mind.  Her half-opened mouth shut, becoming a thin straight line.

The two fell again into silence, both seemingly fascinated by the water spot on the window.  Eventually, Cassandra returned, angrily sliding the door open, and dropping several Cauldron Cakes in Severus' lap.  "Here," she said, as if she were talking to a stray dog.  Then she turned to Lily, and handed her the change.  "They didn't have any Pumpkin Pasties left," she mumbled, taking her seat.

"Oh, that's all right," Lily replied, standing up to retrieve her satchel.  "Thanks a bunch anyway."  She glanced at Severus, who was staring down at his Cauldron Cakes.  "And Severus is glad also, aren't you, Severus?"

"Hm.  What?"  He looked up and saw Lily standing in front of him, putting her change away.  "Erm, yes.  Of course.  Thank-you," he said woodenly.

Cassandra didn't reply, instead she grabbed the copy of the Quibbler that had been lying on the seat next to her and started reading it.  For the rest of the long ride home, she barely said five words.

In fact, no one in the compartment said much of anything after that—though there were glances.  Many of them.  Curious looks from Lily to Severus, and uncertain ones from him to her.  And as the train rumbled on, these looks continued, perfectly timed so that none collided. 


	4. For the Best

Chapter 4 – For the Best

When the Hogwarts Express pulled into Kings Cross with a heart-skipping lurch, Severus felt as if he'd been hit by a Petrificus Totalis curse.  He couldn't move. 

Cassandra, on the other hand, seemingly hex-free, jumped to her feet, snatched up her belongings, and muttered a curt good-bye to Lily before the train had come to a complete stop.  She barely glanced at Severus before opening the door and joining the line of Hogwarts students eagerly making their way down the train's narrow corridor.

The compartment door slid shut with a resounding crack, startling Severus into mobility like a slap in the face.  He stood up to retrieve his satchel, and then glanced over at Lily.  She was still seated, her green eyes studying him intently.

Unnerved by the unexpected attention she was paying him, Severus glanced down the front of his robes expecting to find an unsightly stain, or worse, a revealing hole.  His robes, however, were perfectly clean and intact.

Turning back to her, he frowned.  "What is it?" he asked, puzzled.  "Why are you staring at me like that?"

Lily only smiled cryptically.

Severus let out an impatient breath.  "I don't understand you," he said in what he thought was a very stern, disapproving voice.  "In all of our five years at Hogwarts, we've never been friends, and now suddenly…you're…" Much to his displeasure, his stern voice trailed off, softening and becoming almost vulnerable.  "…suddenly you're…being nice to me…and…I don't get it."

He was looking directly at her now, and she was gazing back steadily.  After several heartbeats, she finally answered.  "I don't either," she said simply.

Severus frowned.  "But…you—"

"I don't know what it is about you, exactly," she continued, "but you intrigue me."

His black eyes widened, "I…?"

She nodded.  "Yes, you."  She cocked her head to one side, and studied him appraisingly.  "On the surface, you're so dark…villain-like almost, but I think, and I guess I could be wrong, but I think that there's more to you…than meets the eye."

"More?" he said, sounding doubtful.  "Evans, I assure you that—"

"Yes, I think so," she interrupted, still studying him intently.  "There's something about you, a sadness perhaps, I don't know…  It's in your eyes.  Yes, there's definitely something there, but you've closed yourself off so completely from people."

Severus shook his head.  This was madness!  "Listen, Evans—"

"Lily," she cut in, "call me Lily."

"_Evans_," he continued, "whatever it is you think—"

"Yes, so I was _thinking_," she blurted hastily, "I was thinking that I'd like to get to know you better...break through the surface…unravel the mystery…you know?"

"No," he muttered.  "No, I definitely do _not_ know."

Seemingly undeterred, Lily pursed her lips together into a tight smile.  "Well, I can't force you or anything," she said, handing him a slightly crumpled scrap of paper that she'd been holding, "but, if you're interested, here's my address and telephone number.  You can write to me, if you wish, or call…"  Her smiled faltered as she looked up into his face.  "I…I'd love to hear from you…  Maybe we could get together sometime…"

Blushing, Lily hurriedly stood up and started gathering her things, "I'm usually not this forward with boys," she explained, not looking at him.  "It's just…"  She paused, belongings in check, and gazed up at him shyly.  "You're so different from the others."

Severus opened his mouth to respond, but she was gone before he could answer, and he found himself alone in the compartment, staring down at the paper she'd just handed him.

* * *

"Where is he?" Severus muttered impatiently, craning his neck as he tried to see over the surrounding sea of Muggles in search of Lurvey, his family house elf.  Of course, spotting a creature of such small stature in the crowded train station was about as easy as spotting a maple sapling in a forest of redwoods.  

Off at an angle, he caught sight of Lily being hugged by a balding, heavyset man in Bermuda shorts.  Severus abruptly turned away only to bump into a tall, thin figure dressed in a black, summer-weight wool suit.  He looked up to see a familiar hawk-like face, with piercing black eyes, and oiled-back hair, which clung to his head, making it look almost skull-like.   

"Severus," Mordemos Snape said, in a low, even voice.

"Father," Severus replied.  "I'm surprised to find you here.  I thought that you'd be sending Lurvey to meet me as you usually do."

His father smiled, leaving Severus feeling cold.  "I thought I'd surprise you," he said.

"Well, you've succeeded," Severus replied, taking on the same voice of indifference that seemed to be a Snape trademark.  He glanced at Lily who was smiling and chatting amiably with a middle-aged woman in a madras plaid sundress, and he hastily added, "Well, I guess we'd better get going then."

"All right," the elder Snape replied.  He turned and began striding purposefully in Lily's general direction.  "Our Portkey is this way."

Reluctantly, Severus followed, keeping his eyes on his father's back, and not looking at Lily.  He'd just passed her, when he heard her call his name.  He hastened his step.

"Severus!" she called again a little louder.

His father stopped and Severus almost ran into him.  Mordemos Snape turned and looked directly at Lily.  He studied her carefully, as if she were something to be purchased, then took in her surrounding family.  He frowned.  "Is that girl calling you, Severus?"

Severus turned slowly to see Lily waving at him.

"Er, yes," he replied, "I suppose she is."  Lily smiled at him, and he quickly looked away.

"Well, who is she?  Is she a friend of yours?" his father asked, disapproval in his voice.

"No.  She's…" Severus paused, looking at neither Lily nor his father.  "No one," he finished, speaking loud enough for Lily to overhear. 

His father shot him a questioning look, then turned and resumed walking in their previous course.  Severus followed wordlessly.  He glanced back at Lily and immediately wished he hadn't; she met his gaze, and then quickly turned away.  She appeared stricken.

Snapping his head forward, Severus blinked once and then continued after his father.  

He hated to hurt her, but he knew—and he'd already told himself this more than once—that it was for the best.


	5. Home

Chapter 5 – Home

A/N – Sorry for the delay.  This chapter had to have a major rewrite.  It was bad…bad…bad…  Anyway, thanks again for the reviews.  Oh, and especially the cookie.  I like cookies.  Cookies are good.

A/N 2 – Just a bit of fun trivia for anyone out there (and awake).  I borrowed/stolen/took etc. the name for Sev's Mom from a famous old book.  It's one of my favs (besides "Pride & Prejudice," of course).  Anyway, I'll share my cookie with the first person who can name that book.  Fun, huh?  Yeah right.  Anyway, if you've read the book and know the character, it will tell you something about Sev's mother's character.  Got it?

A/N 3 – Last one, I promise!  Okay, just wanted to add that I finally got the first four chapters beta'd and have made some changes (none plot-related though) accordingly.  So, if you happen to re-read any of those chapters and note changes, well, that's why.   I've also erased those annoying author's notes.  I'll reserve A/N's for the draft/unbeta'd versions, just so you know.  Kind of gives it that "LJ" feeling don't ya think?

* * *

The Portkey deposited them within a block of their home.

"So, you say that she's 'no one' then," the elder Snape said.  He still seemed skeptical of his son's relations with the obviously muggle-born girl they'd seen at the train station.  

"Well, no one of any consequence, anyway," Severus replied carefully.

"Still," Mordemos Snape continued as they approached a stately, neo-classical, red-brick mansion, "she _was_ quite striking—a beautiful girl, really.  I can't imagine _any_ boy not—"

"She's a Mudblood," Severus cut in abruptly.

His father looked thoughtful.  "Yes, I supposed as much by the look of her parents, but still…"

They strode up a stone walkway, and climbed the steps to their home's impressive front entry.

"She's clearly beneath me," Severus said through clenched teeth.

His father pushed open the heavy wooden door and entered the house that had once belonged to his wife and her family.  The wizard's dark Muggle suit transformed instantly into billowing black robes as he passed through the threshold.  Severus followed, barely noticing the change in his father's attire.  

The elder Snape paused in the foyer, gazing with satisfaction around the impressive entry; first he glanced down to the Italian marble floor, then he took in the intricately carved gold-plated crown molding, and finally his gaze swept around to the surrounding mix of French, English, and even Chinese furnishings, which all came together in a lavishly eclectic look.  Mordemos smiled at his son.  "Aren't we fortunate, Severus, to come home to such a comfortable house?"

Severus raised an eyebrow.  Comfortable?  Linton House was many things, but comfortable?  He glanced at the expensive black lacquer chairs that flanked the entry, and the orange loveseat tightly upholstered in raw silk.  None of which, he'd ever sat on.  Comfortable?  He shook his head.  The only room in the house he'd ever felt at ease in was his own bedroom on the third floor.

"Severus?" his father said in a low, impatient voice, obviously awaiting an answer from his son.

The younger Snape cleared his throat.  "Yes, Father, we're most fortunate," he replied finally.

Mordemos nodded and headed toward the grand staircase, which curved up to the second floor balcony.  Severus followed, his eyes straying to a large portrait that was hung near the foot of the stairs.  Its subject was a young woman with honey-blonde hair swept up in a smooth chignon.  She wore a shimmering blue gown, and stared out sadly from the painting, as if she were a prisoner.  Upon seeing Severus, however, Isabel Linton Snape's look brightened, and she rose from her seat.

"Severus," she called, waving a delicate, white-gloved hand.

Severus glanced up at the portrait, feeling at once joy and anger.  The two emotions seemed to cancel each other out and he was left strangely empty.  "Hello, Mother," he replied in an even monotone, barely slowing down as they walked by her picture.  

His mother pressed her gloved hands against the edges of the gilded frame, and peered out at Severus as he passed.  "I've missed you," she called after him, a desperate edge to her voice.

Severus looked straight ahead.  "And I you," he said dully.

His father smirked, but said nothing, then headed left, towards his study.  Severus hurried up the staircase, taking the steps, two by two, and pausing only briefly when he heard the muffled sound of his mother's crying.

* * *

His room was just as he'd left it roughly five months earlier.  It was neat, and dominated by soaring bookshelves, which lined the walls and were all filled with colorful volumes.  The books were segregated by subject, and then alphabetized by author.  Severus shut the door behind him, and strode over to his desk, which was positioned between two of the room's four arched windows.

Gently, he set down Bartho's cage and opened the trap door.  The owl hooted once, blinked, stepped out of his cage and immediately flew up to his roost up in a top corner of the room.

Severus glanced up at the owl, who was now pruning himself, and then lay his heavy satchel onto the desk.  He wasted no time emptying the bag of books, and sorting them onto the shelves.  When he pulled out a volume that he'd 'borrowed' from the restricted section of the Hogwarts library earlier in the term, he paused.  He'd been careful when taking this one, replacing it with one of his first year textbooks magically transformed to resemble the borrowed book.  It wasn't in his nature to steal, but he'd felt it necessary—in this case.

Ever since he was a young boy, the Dark Arts had always intrigued him.  Maybe it was the power.  Or the fact that it was forbidden.  He wasn't really sure.  More than likely, however, it was his father's influence on him.  As much as he hated him, there was a part of Severus that admired Mordemos Snape.

A dark wizard like his father would've never been suspended upside down by the likes of James Potter or Sirius Black.  They would've never dared.  No one who knew him was  stupid enough to cross Mordemos Snape.  Severus paused in thought.  Of course, Potter and Black _were_ exceptionally stupid...

His mouth twisted into a bitter smile, which quickly turned upside down to a frown.

All of his young life, he'd never measured up.  He lacked, as his father often reminded him, the 'killer' instinct.  He was too much like his mother in the elder Snape's opinion.  Of course, Severus, for the life of him, could see no resemblance to the fair Isabel.  When he looked in the mirror, all he saw was his father.

Tall, and lanky, with dark hair, contrasting against his pale skin, he was an exact replica of Mordemos Snape.  And of course he was a Slytherin like his father. The sorting hat had wasted no time in making that decision.

Isabel had been Ravenclaw, as had all of the Linton's before her.  She'd been smart and beautiful…

Severus had often wondered how his father, dark-hearted, and looking as he did, could've ever attracted a woman like his mother.

Perhaps he'd had some help…from the Dark Arts. 

Now, Severus thought, if only _he_ could master them as well as Mordemos Snape.

No one would lay a hand on, or rather; point a wand, at him again.

Certainly not Potter or Black.

And, of course, he could have any girl he wanted.

Any girl.

But at the thought of this, he frowned.  How empty it would be to gain someone's affections in such a way.  And besides, in all honesty, there was only one girl who he could even think of, and she was sadly…

Unacceptable.

At the thought of Lily Evans, Severus frowned.  He recalled her expression at Platform Nine and Three Quarters.  How hurt she'd looked.  But he'd had to do it.  His father had already noticed her, and her Muggle parents.  If his father suspected…

No, he'd done the right thing.  There was no telling what Mordemos Snape would've done if he knew of his son's growing interest in a Mudblood.  To his father, they were lower than house elves.

Severus shook his head, and began pacing the room.  It was better this way, he told himself, if she hated him.

He stopped, jamming his hands in his robe pockets.  But did she?  Hate him?

Well, after what he'd said, calling her a 'no one,' she certainly wouldn't have liked him any better, now could she have?

It was for the best…for the best…for the best… 

He balled up his hands inside his pockets, and suddenly felt a slip of paper curled in one of his fists.  It was the note Lily had given to him earlier on the train.  He pulled it out, and looked at it, a surprised expression on his face.  Carefully, he unfurled it, and smoothed out the edges of the parchment.  

On it, he read Lily's address and phone number.  For several seconds, he forgot to breathe.  Then he inhaled sharply, squared back his shoulders, and strode over to his desk.  He sat down in the hard-backed, wooden chair, still gazing at the note, as if transfixed.  Then he pulled out his quill and a sheet of parchment from the bottom drawer.  He began writing.

  



	6. Letter to Lily

Chapter 6 – Letter to Lily

A/N – Hmm.  Nobody came up with the answer to my 'fun' trivia question (not that I expected hoards of over-eagerlies with their arms in the air, jumping up and down, yelling "ooh…ooh…Mr. Kottaire!")  Ah well, the book was, of course, "Wuthering Heights" and the character, Isabella Linton Heathcliff.  I'm sure any Google search could've helped you with that one, but that's okaaaay.  All right, so this story really is starting to roll.  I know I'm in the 'zone' when every song that comes on the radio somehow reminds me of Lily and Severus.  Geez, what a freak!  I better stop my ramblings now while I'm only six feet under…

A/N 2 – Oh you knew I couldn't leave it at just one!  Just had to add a big thanks to those of you who've left reviews (none for those who haven't, mind you).  Anyway, you know I treasure them all, especially ones that proclaim me 'not at all incompetent!'  Dang!

* * *

_Dear Lily,_

_You'll never read this letter, as I've no intention of sending it.  But I simply feel compelled to write it.  Perhaps if I commit my feelings to paper, I may look at them with a critical eye and see them for what they truly are.  Foolish.  My heart, you see, has been acting strangely and refuses to listen to reason.  You are the cause for its insolence, of course; as I'm sure you're aware._

_I'll tell you first off that I don't blame you for the suffering you've provoked.  It's not your fault.  It's mine.  If I were stronger, and more in control of my emotions, I would never have let myself think of you as I have._

_But being only fifteen, male, and obviously weak, I 'have' thought of you.  You can only begin to imagine how much._

_I guess it all started with the unexpected attentions you paid me on the train.  No, I have to admit, it was much earlier.  From that ill-fated day at school—and my encounter with 'those whom I need not name'—you made me take notice.  And now I feel torn.  I know what's right.  I know what can't be.  And still, my heart won't relent.  My feelings are what they are.  And I need only tell you this—that however misguided, they're undeniably strong._

_As far as what 'your' sentiments may be, I'm completely baffled.  On the train you expressed an interest in me that I simply cannot fathom._

_I can only assume that your regard for me—if you can call it such—is based on silly, girlish notions, and that you've romanticized me into someone I'm not.  Whatever your feelings may be, however, I'm certain they will be done with by the end of summer—if not sooner._

_If only mine could be that shallow._

_But, again, I must stress that I don't blame you, and that I wish you no ill will.  Honestly, I find you to be a most amazing person.  I wouldn't have wasted countless hours thinking of you if I didn't._

_I lack eloquence, I know, where you're concerned.  You've made me into someone I despise—someone pathetic, and unsure, mindless and blithering.  And that, I'm afraid, cannot be._

_So, you see I have no choice but to put any and all thoughts of you out of my head.  It won't be easy, by any means, but it must be done. Know that I wish things could be different.  Truly, I wish 'I' were different. _

_But I'm not._

_So, I must finish this letter that you will never read, and which explains why I will never call you…or send you an owl…or visit you…  Even though I may wish to, I simply can't._

_I'm sorry if I've hurt you in any way with cruel words I may have spoken, or my 'smoke screen' of indifference.  My actions were necessary.  There are reasons that I cannot discuss and that I don't expect you to understand.  Thus, I won't bore you any further with an attempt at explaining._

_Just know that I wish you only the best._

_Sincerely,_

_Severus Snape_

_PS – If I don't look at you or speak to you when school resumes in the Fall, I hope you'll understand why._

Severus lay down his quill and read through his letter, once, twice and a third time.  Bartho sat perched upon his shoulder, and Severus stroked the owl's feathers absently.

"She's a strange one, this Lily Evans," he muttered, fingers skimming Bartho's silky feathers.  "One can't help but be taken with a girl like that, can one?"  He sighed and turned his head a fraction toward the bird.  "I mean you were taken with her, weren't you, boy?"

Bartho blinked.

Severus sighed again.  "Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself.  I've probably magnified the problem tenfold.  It couldn't really as bad as I've made it out to be now could it?  After all, she has no idea of how I feel."  Frowning, he scratched his chin.  "Well, for that matter, I'm not exactly a hundred percent sure myself…"

Severus read through the letter one more time, them crumpled it up.  "Of course, she'll never know, anyway," he said, standing up abruptly and dropping the balled up paper onto the desktop.  Unbalanced by his owner's sudden movement, Bartho flapped his wings, and hopped down onto the desktop.  He gazed up at Severus and hooted softly.

Sighing, Severus turned and strode over to his large, four-poster bed.  He flopped onto the faded, hunter-green coverlet, and reached for a pillow, hugging it to him. He rolled onto his side facing away from the desk, and closed his eyes.  Much to his dismay, he immediately thought of Lily.  And although he'd just vowed to put her out of his head only minutes earlier, she wouldn't go away.  He remembered how she'd gazed up at him on the train.

_"You're so different from the others…" _she'd said.

He recalled how she'd looked, so shy and vulnerable.  She'd opened up to him, risking so much to tell him how she felt.  And then he'd let her slip away.  The idiot.

But what if he'd stopped her?

"_Wait," _he would've said, reaching out and catching her by the hand, and doing what he'd longed to do. He'd pull her towards him.

And she'd look up at him in surprise, her face tilting toward his, inviting him.

Then he'd lean in for a kiss, his lips parting slightly as they met hers… 

But of course, that wasn't how it happened, or for that matter, would ever happen.  

Severus opened his eyes suddenly, angry with himself for being so weak.  Who was he kidding?  He was as capable of banishing Lily Evans from his thoughts as he was, say, of striking his father dead with an Avada Kedavra curse.  As much as he wished to do either, he just didn't have the strength.__

Fitfully, he turned over onto his other side and stared straight ahead of him.  His eyes focused on Bartho.  The bird was still standing on the desk, looking down at Severus' balled up letter, his head cocked at a curious angle as if he were deep in thought.  Bartho pecked at the letter a couple of times, and it fell to the floor.  Then he easily dropped down to the spot where it lay, and he gingerly pulled at the wadded up parchment with his beak.  Severus watched in surprise as the owl started to uncurl the letter.  After several minutes, Bartho waddled back and forth over the now straightened paper, and hooted with satisfaction.  He then turned to Severus, who was watching in stunned silence.  The owl blinked, and then carefully grabbed the letter in his beak.  He flapped his wings several times, and then flew up to a half-open window.

Finally realizing what the owl was up to, Severus jumped to his feet.  "No!" he shouted as he rushed to the window, trying to catch the owl before he got away.  But he was too late.

Bartho was gone.


	7. Lily's Reply

Chapter 7 – Lily's Reply

A/N – A big apology for taking so long to update.  I've got a world of excuses, but no, I'm not going to bore you with them.  To make up for it though, I've decided to post everything I've got all at once.  That's three whole chapters!  Woo hoo!  Well, actually, it's all I've got.  Been in a bit of a slump lately, but anyway…  Here they are.   Hope you like them (and that they're coherent).

A/N 2 - Thanks again for the reviews!  Oh, and, RV, thanks for the compliment…  Me, an actress?  I wish!  Nothing that interesting, I'm afraid.

* * *

The two men sat on opposite ends of the long, rectangular dining table.  Severus took a sip of his cold potato soup and grimaced.  Oh, how he missed the much heartier fare at Hogwarts!  His father liked his meals refined, and tasteless.  The soup was a good example.

It had been ten days now since Bartho had flown away with his letter.  The owl had returned a day later with no reply.  So Severus waited, feeling more apprehensive with each passing day.

He'd barely touched his soup when Lurvey, the house elf came into the dining hall with the main course:  poached sea bass with a side of steamed asparagus.  The fish was drizzled with a pea green sauce that looked, indeed, like puréed peas.  After serving both men their entrées, Lurvey bowed low, his forehead almost touching the floor and left the room without so much as a look from his master.

Severus toyed with the flaky white fish on his plate, moving it from side to side, before opting to spear one of the asparagus shoots with his fork.  He nibbled the pointed end, nose wrinkling at the bitter taste, and then laid down his fork.  He pushed the dish away.

His father looked up at him with a questioning look.  "Done so soon?" he asked.

Severus nodded.  "I'm not hungry," he replied quietly.  Actually, he hadn't had much of an appetite since he'd come home.  Part of the reason was the unappealing meals that were served at Linton House, but a bigger reason was his nerves.  

The elder Snape eyed his son coldly.  "Suit yourself," he muttered and turned back to his dinner.

Severus pushed his chair away from the table, and had just stood up when a tapping sound caught his attention.  It was coming from one of the tall, leaded glass windows on the east side of the dining hall.  He turned and immediately felt his stomach tighten.  A large barn owl was perched on the windowsill outside.  

He thought of Lily.  Could this be her long-awaited reply?  Quickly, he strode over to the window, and let the owl into the room.  It flapped its wings and hopped inside, dropping a letter at his feet.  Severus stooped down to retrieve it.  The owl jumped back outside to the ledge and waited.

Severus picked up the letter, his hands shaking as he turned the envelope over and saw his name scrawled in graceful, flowing letters.  Glancing at the owl, he absently muttered for it to wait, then walked over to the dining table and grabbed a dinner roll.  He strode back to the window, tore the roll in half and handed the resting owl a piece of the bread.  He turned his attention back to the letter, flipping it over and breaking its red wax seal.  Without thinking he started to pull out several sheets of a buff colored parchment.  They were lightly scented.  He raised the letter to his nose and sniffed.  Lilies.

His father cleared his throat, startling Severus.  "What is it?" Mordemos Snape asked, peering at his son through narrowed eyes.

Severus looked up, and hastily began stuffing the letter back into the envelope.  "Nothing," he replied a little too quickly.

His father frowned.  "Who's it from?" he asked.

"N-no one," Severus answered.

His father sat back in his chair, a knowing look crossing his face.  "Ah, so it's that 'no one' again, is it?"

"It's not…what you think."

"Is it now?  Tell me, Severus…just what am I thinking?"

"That…she's…I mean…"

"Ah, a 'she' you say.  So it _is_ that girl—the one from the train station."

Severus stared at his father and realized that there was no point in lying to him.  Mordemos would know.  Somehow he always could tell when his son was deceiving him.  "I…" Severus began.

"You fancy her, don't you?" Mordemos asked, his expression close to a leer.

Severus didn't reply.

"She _is_ rather fetching, if I do say so myself.  A girl like that…  So young, and vibrant.  I can understand your interest in her."  Mordemos paused, his look calculating.  He smiled.  "You don't have to hide anything from me, Severus."

"But…but she's Muggle-born…surely…you don't approve."

"Certainly not!"

"Then…"  Severus looked bewildered.  What game was his father playing?

Mordemos picked up the cloth napkin from his lap and carefully dabbed the corners of his mouth.  "If it's a summer dalliance you seek, I see no harm in it," he said evenly.  "I was young once.  I understand more than you think."  He rose from his chair, and stepped back from the table.  "But just remember, Severus…" His voice turned lower, more menacing.

Severus stared open-mouthed at his father.  "Yes?" he breathed.

"Don't forget _who_ you are.  And _what_ you are."

"I—I won't," Severus answered automatically, although he really wasn't sure of either of those two things.

"Good," the elder Snape said with a nod.  He threw his napkin down on his half-eaten dinner.  "Besides," he added in an off-handed manner, "you're already betrothed, Severus.  It was all decided years ago.  Whatever you choose to do with this girl is of little consequence, really."

And with that, Mordemos Snape swept out of the room.

* * *

Clearly upset, Severus rushed past his mother's portrait on his way toward the master staircase.  

"Severus!" she called quickly.  "Severus, what's wrong?"

At the sound of her voice, he paused and turned to face her.  "I—" he began, too many questions rushing into his head at once.  "He—he said I was betrothed.  That it was decided long ago…  Is it true?"  He glanced up at Isabel Snape and when he saw her expression he knew.

Her eyes went wide, and her mouth formed a perfect "o" half-hidden behind her white-gloved hand.

"So it _is _true," Severus whispered.

His mother reached out to him from the portrait.  "Oh, Severus, you have to understand…your father…he thought it best that you be settled with an appropriate girl…that if left to chance that you might…"

"Might what?" Severus snapped.

His mother recoiled.  "I—I only meant…I mean he…we…we thought it best for you."

"But he doesn't care about what's best for me.  You should know that."  With his father there would always have to be an angle.  Undoubtedly, there was wealth to be gained, another family to ruin.   Severus glanced down at the now crumpled letter clutched in his hand.  "Can it be broken?" he asked suddenly, looking up at his mother.

She shook her head, and he noticed her eyes were already starting to tear.  "I—I don't think so," she replied softly.

Severus was silent for a moment.  Then he turned toward the top of the stair, and headed for his room.

* * *

After the shock had subsided, Severus felt strangely numb.  He sat on the edge of his bed waiting for his senses—his feelings—to return to him.  But they didn't.  At least not right away.  Maybe, he thought, he didn't have any.  Maybe his father had finally succeeded in crushing what little feelings he'd had remaining.

Sighing, he flopped back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.  He should've been angry.  Outraged.  So why wasn't he?

He sighed again.  Maybe it was because it didn't matter.  Perhaps his father really _had_ done him a favor.  Honestly, what had his prospects ever been before?  Nonexistent. Exactly.

No girl had ever so much as looked his way.  He was an ugly black beetle to be stepped on.  His chances of finding someone—anyone—had been laughable.

Until Lily.  

He raised her letter, still clutched in his hand, to eye level.  But what _were_ her feelings for him, if any?

He sat up again, easing himself back up against the headboard.  Slumping slightly forward, he slowly opened the envelope, and pulled out the delicate, buff-colored parchment.  There were three sheets.  His hands shook as he unfolded them.  The first page was badly crinkled and, he noticed, one of the corners was singed.  Just a few lines scrawled in messy letters—not at all like the graceful script on the envelope—it was barely a note.

_Dear Severus,_

Slug!  Troll!  Earwig!  I hate you! 

_Sincerely,_

_Lily Evans_

Severus frowned.  Well, he supposed he deserved as much.  He should've expected such a response after the letter he'd written, but still…  He scratched his head, then turned to the second page.  The letter was longer, the writing neater.  He began to read.

_Dear Severus,_

_I still hate you, but considerably less than when I first received your letter.  It's been a few days now, and I've composed myself.  I've also re-read your letter several times.  I no longer consider you to be a slug, or a troll, but you're still an earwig as far as I'm concerned, and I'm still angry.  _

_I mean what person in their right mind would send such a letter, dripping with condescension, and even disdain?  Have you a brain?  I wonder.  But being stupid is no excuse.  At least, not for you._

I assume my being Muggle-born is the reason you object to your ill-founded feelings for me—as detestable as they may be.  You're a snob.  Plain and simple.

_I don't know what I ever saw in you.  I honestly thought you were different.  But I guess I was wrong…_

_A while ago, I'd heard about your mother, and couldn't help but think…'how awful.'  And you're always alone.  Doesn't everyone need a friend?  So I thought…_

_I just can't imagine how it must feel…_

The letter trailed off unfinished.  Severus exhaled softly, then flipped to the last page.  It was dated the day before.  The handwriting was again neat, and flowing, and…  Severus sniffed the page—it was scented with her perfume!  Puzzled, Severus read on.

_Dear Severus,_

_At last, I'm thinking clearly.  I was angry, as you can imagine, upon first reading your letter.  Your tone…word choice…  Inappropriate to say the least.  But, finally, after reviewing it countless times, I think I'm starting to understand.  Your feelings, however unwanted, are strong, and they're aimed—towards me._

_In a very strange, utterly unconventional way, I'm flattered._

_I even think I understand your struggles.  You've been raised a certain way, just as I have.  But I've been fortunate enough to have loving parents that have accepted and embraced me for who and what I am.  I imagine that your upbringing has been vastly different from mine._

_Our lives are miles apart, and yet I think, connected somehow.  You may chalk it up to 'silly girlish notions,' but I call it intuition.  Foresight.  I've always excelled in Divination, you know.  You may laugh at this, but I've seen you—in my dreams, in my life…  I kid you not._

_And I would've never thought of you, by any means, as the man of my dreams—and yet, somehow, you're in them.  And they're not nightmares, in case you're wondering.  They're…pleasant._

_So, what to do?  I'm as muddled as you seem to be.  But at least I'm no longer angry.  Let's come to terms with this—and with each other then.  I still want to see you.  But it's entirely up to you…_

_Being a modern woman, here's my proposal:  I'll be at the "Fresh Start Café" down on Camden High Street this Saturday evening at eight-o-clock.  If you wish, you can meet me there._

_If, however, you choose not to come, I'll respect your wishes and cut all contact with you.  And, yes, I'll understand if you don't speak to me in the hallways back at Hogwarts.  Like you ever did!_

_Yours,_

_Lily Evans_

_P.S. – I've decided to enclose previous versions of this reply so you may truly understand how your letter has affected me, and the succession of emotions it has brought on._

_P.P.S. – If you do decide to come, don't forget your Muggle attire!_


	8. Taking the Leap

Chapter 8 – Taking the Leap

A/N –According to the good people at the Harry Potter Lexicon, Severus Snape entered Hogwarts in 1971, thus I'm assuming the summer after his fifth year takes place during the year 1977.  Now, '77 was a good year; I was eleven, and from what I recall disco was big.  I even have my old Bee Gees albums to prove it.  It was also the year that "Saturday Night Fever" came out.  Remember John Travolta in that famous white suit?  No?  Okay, me too.  It was an "R" rated movie, after all.  But I had the soundtrack …  So, not being British, I'm assuming that disco was big in England as well as here in the U.S.  If I'm wrong, let me know and I'll gladly make the necessary tweaks.

* * *

Severus studied himself in the mirror, frowning at his strange clothing.  He wore a maroon long-sleeved shirt in a silky polyester fabric, with itchy double-knit black pants.  A sleek, black leather belt with a shiny, gold-tone buckle accented the look.  Severus scowled.

Basically, he looked ridiculous. 

Of course, the man at the Everything Muggle Store down at Diagon Alley had told him otherwise.  The dishonest peddler would've said anything to make a sale.  He'd even sold Severus a matching black blazer, which supposedly completed the ensemble.  Severus picked the coat up off his bed and casually slung it over one shoulder in a manner he had been told would be debonair.  He returned to the mirror and modeled his new look, checking out the view from various angles.  None flattered, however, and with a sigh, Severus tossed the blazer on the bed, and slumped down next to it.  

The man at the shop had referred to the fashion as "disco" and claimed it was the latest Muggle craze, but Severus was afraid he looked more like a Muggle gangster than anything else.  And, of course, his hair didn't help.  He'd washed it with some sort of herbal shampoo that he'd picked up at same store, and his black, chin-length hair was wavier than normal, and, Merlin forbid, bouncy.  To top it all off, he now smelled like fruit.

Despairingly, he ran his fingers through his unruly tresses, then stood up, strode over to his dresser and rummaged through the various toiletries that he'd found in his mother's room.  They were over five-years-old, and some appeared congealed, or lumpy in consistency.  Severus picked up a plastic tube which contained a bright green gelatinous substance labeled "Dippity Do."  The tube made a disgusting flatulent noise as he squeezed a large lump onto his palm.  He vigorously rubbed his hands together, then spread the gel into his hair, combing it through with his fingers to make sure it was evenly distributed.  Then he stepped in front of the mirror again to survey his handiwork, and this time he actually felt satisfied.  He looked as he usually did…though he still smelled like fruit.

But it would have to do; the time was drawing near.

Severus picked up his blazer, shrugged it on, then headed for the door.  He was long past uncertainty at this point.  He'd mulled over the idea of seeing Lily for several days before deciding to take the leap.  And it was a blind one.  But Lily was right; it was time they came to terms with their feelings—and with each other.  She was now constantly in his thoughts, day and night.  And it was positively maddening.

Tonight, she'd be waiting for him at a Muggle cafe across town.  He smiled as he thought of this, and swung open his bedroom door.  Soon, they'd be together.  He wouldn't let her wait in vain.

* * *

"Severus?"

The date-bound teenager paused, and then reluctantly looked up at his mother's portrait.

"Severus, where are you going?"

"Out," he replied with no intention of elaborating.

"But your clothes…?"

"What about them?" he said casually, turning away from the portrait, and heading toward the foyer.

* * *

"Severus?"

The skin on the back of his neck prickled, and he turned around.

"Severus, where are you going?"  His father's tone was threatening.

Severus paused, considering his answer, then replied in the same dismissive manner he'd used with his mother.  "Out," he said, lifting his chin a half-inch, in an unwise sign of defiance.

"Where, exactly?" his father questioned, his eyes raking over Severus' outlandish get-up.

Severus thought for a moment.  Although his father had hinted earlier that his son could engage in a 'dalliance' with a Mudblood like Lily without fear of punishment, he still felt wary.  And besides, a meeting with Lily would never, in his mind, be considered a 'dalliance.'  Not where his heart was concerned.

So he stared directly into Mordemos' eyes, and lied.  "A Muggle studies group," he said evenly, and, he hoped, convincingly.

"Oh?"   His father lifted an eyebrow, obviously doubtful.  "During Summer Break, and on a Saturday night?"

"Well, y-yes," Severus faltered.  "We…we thought that we'd study the social behavior of—"

"Legimens!" his father said suddenly in a booming voice.  He pointed his wand directly at his son, and stared unflinchingly into his eyes.

"No!"  

Severus staggered back and felt the memories flowing out of him.  Lily in the library.  Lily in the corridor.  Lily on the train.  And the letter.  Her letter.  The words poured out of his mind, as if Mordemos were reading them.  

And when it was over, he found himself slumped on the cold marble floor, his hands shielding his face.  His voice was almost hoarse as he shouted for his father to stop.  In the background, Severus heard his mother calling out to them, demanding to know what was going on.  She sounded hysterical—panicked.  

"So," his father said in a sinister voice, "you've been keeping secrets from me…and lying, it seems."

Severus looked up, fearful as he saw the cold, hard look on the elder Snape's face.  "No, Father, it's not what you think, we just—"

"Silence!" his father roared, dark eyes glittering.  "Such a pathetic excuse for a son.  You're weak, and foolish—just your mother."  Sneering, he glanced at his Isabel Snape's frantic-looking portrait.  "The Linton's were a spineless family, blood traitors to the end—with no vision."  He turned back to Severus.  "But you are not _entirely_ worthless.  You'll fulfill your purpose one day."  He smiled at this, and then turned abruptly, his black robes sweeping the air as he headed out of the room.

He paused briefly in the doorway.  "Now, be off with you!" he growled over his shoulder  "Have your little 'dalliance' with that Mudblood 'no one' you seem to care about so much.  But just be warned, it _will _end badly." 


	9. First Date

Chapter 9 – First Date

A/N – This chapter was sort of inspired by the multitude of teen movies I've seen in my lifetime.  Remember "Valley Girl" with Nicolas Cage?  No?  Hmm.  Anyway, that movie had this great date montage.  It's a classic.  Remember that song "Melt with You?"  No?  Anyway, that whole date…scene…montage…idea was what I was going for.  Not sure if it works, but oh well…it _was_ fun to write!

A/N 2 – This chapter is my personal favorite, so c'mon, be nice—review!

* * *

It had taken Severus over fifteen minutes to compose himself.  Even now, he was still shaking.  His legs felt like rubber as he stumbled along the crowded sidewalk, narrowly missing a young couple holding hands, and a man taking a swig from a flagon-shaped brown paper bag.  His knees nearly buckled under him as he reached the Fresh Start Café.

Breathing deeply, he wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead, and entered the busy eatery.  Standing next to the doorway, Severus noticed the large crowd of people loitering near the entrance, waiting to be seated.  He scanned the cafe, which appeared to be at capacity with all of the dozen or so tables and booths occupied by Muggles in what looked like beatnik attire.  

He spotted Lily right away.  She was sitting in a corner booth, perusing a menu, her reddish hair pulled off her face in a loose ponytail.  She looked fresh and natural with miniscule make-up and wearing faded jeans, a white t-shirt, and a purple cardigan.  She glanced at her watch, frowned, then looked up toward the entrance.  Her worried expression disappeared upon seeing him.

Severus froze.  Then she smiled at him, hesitantly raised her hand, and waved.  He did likewise, and then as if pulled by an invisible string; he crossed the room to where she sat.  

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said hurriedly.  "My father.  He—"  But what could he really tell her about his father…and what Mordemos Snape was capable of?  He paused.  "I was detained," he said finally.

"Don't worry about it," Lily replied, and gestured for him to sit down.  He complied, sliding into the "c" shaped booth, careful to leave at least two feet between them, thus keeping her at a safe distance.

"I'm glad you came," she said, and he noticed that she really looked like she was—glad.

He nodded, and attempted a smile.  There was an awkward silence.  Lily picked up her menu.  "Have you eaten yet?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Here," she said, prying a second menu from its wire stand, she handed it to him, and they again fell into silence.  They spent the next five minutes carefully studying the menu.  When the waitress, a young, college-aged girl with an American accent, came, she gave Severus an appraising look, then turned to Lily.

"What'll it be?" she asked.

 The couple ordered their meals: A spinach salad for Lily; roast beef for Severus.  Then, once again, they fell into silence.

As seemed to be the norm in their new relationship, Lily was the first to speak.  "Well, this is awkward," she said, obviously trying to break the ice.

"Yes," Severus muttered.  He desperately tried to think of something else to say—anything—but he was struck dumb.

Their gazes scanned the room, looking at everything, and everyone, but each other.  Finally Lily turned to him.  She grabbed his hand in an impulsive gesture, and gave it a squeeze.  "Your letter…" she began.  "What you said about me, and how you think about me, and the way you feel about me…is it true?"

"Er…" Severus looked into her expectant face.  "More or less," he replied.

She smiled.  "Me too."  She gave his hand another squeeze, and continued holding it under the table.  "I can't tell you how surprised I was to receive it," she continued.  "I mean after that day at the train station, and what you said, and how you looked at me, I thought that you couldn't possibly …"  Her voice trailed off, then she looked at him and grinned.  "But you do."

He nodded.

"And now here you are," she said.  Her gaze swept up and down, seemingly taking in his full appearance—or at least the part that was visible above the table.  Her eyes lingered on his black polyester blazer, and silky shirt, and she frowned.  "You don't dress in Muggle clothes much, do you?" she asked.

Severus shook his head.  "No.  Is it…?"  He glanced down at his front.  "Is it not appropriate?"

"Well," she said, giving him a condescending smile.  "It's a bit much.  Perhaps later tonight…we could go somewhere where you'd blend in better.  Of course, I'd have to change first..."

"Oh?"

"Mm hm."  She nodded, still smiling.  "And we'd have sneak in, of course."

"Really?"

"Yes, but it would be fun, don't you think?"

"Er, sure.  But…"

"I've been wanting to go dancing for ages…"

* * *

"Well, how do I look?"

Severus stared at the girl standing in front of him.  She wore a black slip of a dress with spaghetti straps and a sarong-style skirt that fell just above the knee.  Her auburn hair was pulled back in a knot, secured by a pair of chopsticks.  She pulled at the tag hanging just under her arm, and craned her neck down as she tried to read it.

"This one's kind of expensive," she said, squinting at the price.  "Maybe I should get the oth—"

"No," Severus cut in abruptly, finally finding his voice.  "It's perfect.  You look…"  _Stunning.  Beautiful.  Gorgeous._  "Fine."

"Just fine?"  She sounded disappointed.  But she _had_ to know better.

He shrugged.  "The girl at the counter said they'd be closing in five minutes.  That was ten minutes ago…"

"Right."  She yanked off the price tag, and hobbled back into the dressing room, apparently having a bit of trouble balancing on her strappy, new spiked-heeled sandals.

She emerged two minutes later carrying the clothes she'd originally worn for their date under her arm.  She took several tentative steps, and nearly fell, latching both of her hands around Severus' elbow to steady herself.   He placed a large, firm hand on her back to support her, and he noticed her slight start at the touch of his fingers on her bare skin.

They gazed at each other for an instant, before quickly looking away.

Hand still firmly on her back, Severus guided her to the counter where the shop girl was impatiently rapping her acrylic nails against the cash register.

"Sorry for the delay," Severus mumbled.  Lily grabbed onto the counter to steady herself, pulled out her brown, suede shoulder bag, and started rummaging around in it.  After a good thirty seconds, she pulled out a worn leather wallet, which she snapped open to produce a shining plastic card.

Smiling, she showed it to Severus before handing it over to the girl.  "Look, my first credit card," she announced with pride.  Severus glanced at it and noted her name embossed in the plastic.  "Dad said it was just for emergencies."  She shot him a wicked grin.  "I'd say its use is warranted in this case, wouldn't you?"

Severus opened his mouth to disagree, thought better of it and held his tongue.  After all, emergencies were relative.

She paid for her dress and shoes, and like two kids who'd just won an invitation to the chocolate factory, they headed off for their next destination.

* * *

"You smell good."

"Hmm?"  Where was he now?  Ah, yes.  He was floating.  Well, it certainly seemed like he was anyway.  Standing here with Lily in his arms.  The music playing in the background.  Yes, as if on a cloud.

But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.  And his cloud quickly evaporated.  The deafening music with the pounding beat returned. 

"Ooh, I like this one," Lily squealed, throwing both arms up in the air and swaying her hips from side to side.

Severus grimaced.  Not again.  He began jerking his body this way and that in an imitation of her movements.  Somehow, he didn't think he was quite achieving the level of grace she was.  Ah well.  Things could've been worse.  After all, he was here with her.  And she was happy.

Happy to be with him?

He studied her upturned face; her closed eyes, and the hint of a smile on her lips.

Yes.  She was happy.  And, yes, she was with him.  One could only conclude that…

He smiled and continued jerking.

* * *

They were alone now, walking.  It was unbelievably late.  He'd never been out this late before.  It was…  He glanced at his watch.  It was tomorrow.

And she was still smiling.  And looking at him.  Always looking.  Like he was something to look at.  Of course he wasn't, but he wasn't about to tell her that.

Let her look.  She's crazy, but…let her be crazy.  Merlin only knew that he was crazy too.  Beyond crazy in fact.  Beyond caring about anything, or anyone, besides her.

All in one night.

And that night was almost over.  Well, technically it already was, but…  Oh dear, she was stopping.

"This is my house," she murmured, gesturing to the proper-looking brownstone obscured in shadow.  She was turning to him now, and looking expectant.  What was she expecting?

Suddenly, he had a pretty good idea.  Her pretty face tilted up toward his, and her lids fluttered closed.

His heart was pounding; his palms sweaty.  He shut his eyes tight, then leaned over.

He kissed her.

* * *

He watched from her front lawn as the trail of lights flicked on and off inside her house.  When the light in the top left corner went on, he waited for half a minute until she came to the window and held her hand up to the glass.  She stood there for a moment, then turned and the window darkened.

Sighing, Severus stuck his hands in his Muggle coat, then headed for home.  There was a Portkey he could use not far from here.  He quickened his step, mind on his date with Lily and not at all on his whereabouts or the streets ahead of him.  He must've missed a turn, or gone the wrong way, because minutes later, he found himself on a darkened street completely devoid of light.

He blinked hard, trying to see in front of him.  So strange.  He turned, then stopped.  

"Hello?" he said, sensing he was not alone.  "Is there someone there?"

He turned again facing his original direction and that's when he saw them.  Two eyes, like slits, glowing in the darkness.  They narrowed even further as they seemed to study him.  

"H…Hello?" he called again. 

Then he heard wicked-sounding laughter, and the man…or creature…or whatever it was spoke in a low, gravelly voice.

"Hello, Severus."

He backpedaled so fast he nearly fell.  With a rush of adrenaline brought on by fear, he scrambled around and ran, blindly, as fast as he could.  He was completely out of breath when he reached the Portkey.  Relief overtook him as he entered the ordinary-looking phone booth, picked up the receiver and instantly disappeared.


	10. Waiting

Author's Note: Wow, it's been a while since I worked on this. Sorry for delay. I have no good excuses. Since it's been so long, I've decided to make this the beginning of "Part II" and switch POV's. I could ramble on forever, but I won't. So here's the next part…please R & R…

Part II

Chapter 10 – Waiting

Lily Evans sat in front of her vanity and studied her reflection in the mirror. Frowning, she leaned in closer and examined the unsightly little bump on her forehead. Was that a pimple she saw? It couldn't be. Yet there it was.

She sat back in her chair. She hadn't had a pimple since…well, never, and yet now… She sighed. Of course it was all Severus' fault. Not just the pimple. And, no, it wasn't due to the overabundance of grease in his hair. It was this waiting that was killing her. Okay, maybe he hadn't actually said that he'd be calling her, but it had certainly been implied, if not understood.

But now, three days had gone by. Three unexpected, and painfully long days! And Lily was getting tired of waiting. After all, she wasn't exactly a "sit-by-the-phone-and-wait" kind of girl. She was much more the "take charge" type. She'd certainly taken the direct approach with Severus. Well, sort of.

Yeah, she'd made the first move. But then she'd then been shot down—and unceremoniously so! She'd been sorely licking her wounds when Severus' owl had arrived. A mixed message, but… Wow!

And then there was the date. She'd never imagined—ever—that it would've been so, well, dreamy. She was still stunned, and she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried, think of anything else but those seven miracle hours spent with him. Of all people! If any of her friends back at Hogwarts ever found out! Girls could be so cruel… And Severus was like…social pariah! They'd never understand. But did she care? No, not really.

But now this…this…silence. It was positively killing her! She'd expected to hear from him immediately; an owl bearing roses, a poem, or maybe even a serenade on her front lawn. Okay, maybe a singing Severus was a bit of a stretch…

But there'd been nothing!

No owl, no poem, and certainly no serenade. She was left disappointed, and puzzled.

Hadn't he felt the same way that she did? It certainly had seemed so. He might've been sparing in the words department, but he'd communicated quite clearly in other ways. The way he looked at her, and held her close when they danced, and the way he kissed her…

Surely, he must've felt it. What she felt. Sitting in front of her mirror, Lily frowned at her reflection.

What did she feel, exactly?

Well, whatever it was, it was exciting, amazing, and it was more than a little scary. For the first time in her young life, Lily Evans had given up control.

And to whom?

A boy that everyone at school avoided—even she had…before.

But there was something about Severus Snape that drew her in. Something that set him apart from everyone else; a quality that had attracted her. He wasn't particularly handsome, or charming like a James Potter. Or like Potter's friend Sirius for that matter. Or even, to be perfectly honest, like Lupin (not that Lupin was particularly charming or handsome). Surely, though he had Peter Pettigrew beat hands down on both counts. But aside from the more superficial qualities, Severus had something all the other boys seemed to lack. She thought for a moment, before it came to her.

It was mystery.

She'd often watched him, during the latter part of the school year; as he walked down hallways, head held high, stride full of purpose and his dark cape billowing behind him. His expression was almost always closed, but she'd seen occasional flickers. There'd been a definite fire in his eyes the day Potter and Company had decided to play bully with him. He'd let down his reserve for just a short time and she'd glimpsed what he so carefully guarded: his emotions, and more importantly the strength of them.

Interest piqued, she'd sneaked glances at him during the remaining O.W.L.'s and noted how his face nearly touched the parchment, and how his lips moved almost fervently as he took his exams. She noticed how alone he looked as he sat on the far end of the Slytherin table during meals in the Great Hall. She also noticed how he seemed to be looking at her more and more, and that she seemed to keep bumping into him. She recalled the expression on his face when he looked at her. Was it loathing or admiration in those dark eyes of his?

At first she wasn't sure. Then finally, she figured it out, or at least thought she had—he 'fancied' her. Yes, he was rude to her, abrupt, and not the least bit friendly, but she thought she could see past his cover. He liked her. She knew it. No, she felt it.

There was something between them, and she could sense it. He did too.

Of course, he had been fighting it all the way. True pure blooded snob that he was. But he should've known it was futile. Poor sap. She sighed again. Of course, who was the sap now?

Lily glared at her reflection with a surge of determination.

"No more waiting!" Lily muttered angrily. Then with one last glance at the offensive pimple, she stood up and went to her wardrobe. She rummaged through her clothing and picked out a suitable outfit: faded jeans and a knobby green sweater, which matched her eyes. She pulled on her sneakers and headed downstairs.

She'd almost made it out the front door, when a shrill, bird-like voice stopped her.

"Where are you going?" the voice demanded.

Lily stopped in her tracks, and stood in the threshold. She turned her head sideways just enough to see her older sister Petunia emerging from the kitchen. Tall and skinny, with limp, pale blond hair and an impossibly long neck, Petunia Evans looked almost crone-like—and she was only seventeen!

Lily paused before answering. The two girls had never been close, especially after Lily had been accepted at Hogwarts. Petunia seemed to have always resented her younger sister's beauty and talent—not to mention all of the attention that Lily seemed to get. Clearly, the Evans' favored their youngest daughter. Lily saw it, and maybe she should've said something… But what? It wasn't like her parents meant to be unfair. They loved both of their girls—just not equally.

And it wasn't anything material. Both girls had their own rooms (of equal square footage and on the same floor with a similar view). Both girls had the same amount of clothes, same allowance, and comparable chores to do. On the surface, it appeared that the Evans' went out of their way to be fair. And maybe that was true. Probably, though, because it wasn't…fair.

Lily saw, as did her sister, the look in her parents' eyes when she came home from Hogwarts, and how excited they were when she told them about her experiences there. Petunia never asked questions, or contributed, to these conversations. Instead, she sat on the side-lines and pouted. Her parents', seemingly oblivious to their older daughter's displeasure, never missed a beat, and never stopped beaming…about Lily.

They were so proud. And how could they not be? Ever since she'd started at Hogwarts Lily had come home with incredible stories about a world the Evans' had never known existed before. A magical world (literally!)

How could a simple B on a History exam or an A- on a Literature paper compare to subjects like Transfiguration or Care of Magical Creatures?

Lily almost felt sorry for Petunia, but not quite. For it seemed, and this had been going on for a long time, that Petunia was bent on making Lily's life just a little less bright. If she couldn't impress her parents on her own merits, why she'd just make her younger sister a little less impressive. If you can't join them, and she couldn't, beat 'em (or her).

Fortunately for Lily, her sister's plan wasn't really working. Her parents' rarely listened to the mean-spirited comments Petunia calculatingly made about her younger sister. So when Petunia asked where she was going, Lily played cool and replied, "Out."

She turned to leave, but Petunia wasn't done.

"Out where?" she asked in the same shrill, harpy-like voice.

_Oh Hell!_ Lily cocked her head a quarter turn back. "Out out," she replied irritably.

"Out out where?" Her sister was not giving up, and this kind of interrogation had potential to go on quite a while.

"Out out…none of your business," Lily said simply, and she left with out looking back.


End file.
